Short Stories

A Cowgirl for the Weekend [Part 1]

Potluck Soup — Cowgirl Weekend
PotluckSoup — A Cowgirl for the Weekend Part 1

Nicole leaned out the window, letting the afternoon’s warmth whip her hair as the car carried her down the dusty country road. Work was done for the week. She was miles from the city now. Endless rolling waves of corn and wheat, and the front gate to a farm lay ahead of her. It was like something from a story book; a large rustic looking home, a workshop, a few sheds, even a classic big red barn.

It was pastoral perfection.

The car rolled to a stop and she hopped out. She needed to find a place to get changed out of her pert, professional looking work clothes.

She was not here to be, in any way, a professional. It was her kink, the thrill of being caught and sexually compromised, that drew her out here. She wanted a new sort of rush, a new adventure. Out here, no one knew her. She could be raw and wild. 

Besides, what would these rural folks really do if they caught her toned body spread and wanting?

Send her packing, if she had to honestly guess. Deep down though? She wished they would join in; her body and sexuality inspiring them to lose themselves to wild, carnal pleasure. Her mind soaked in the fantasy of curious farmhands dominating her, giving in to their most dirty desires.

She had to push away the scandalous visions flooding her head. Not because they were too taboo, not at all. Instead, as it turned out, a slight problem had arisen. Her ride was pulling away with her backpack, the key to this whole adventure, still atop the roof. 

With enough flailing and hollering, she managed to stop the car and retrieve her things. As the car took off again, it kicked up a cloud of country road. When it settled, a broad-shouldered blonde man was coming her way. He was carrying two bags of feed that looked like they weighed as much as Nicole. 

“Looks like they ran off without you.” the man huffed a laugh and pointed towards the car driving  away. “Real dick move to drop someone out in the middle of nowhere like that.”

“Oh, no. I’m supposed to be here.” Nicole gave a weak wave as she tried to catch her breath. 

“That so?” The man tossed the bags to his feet, stretched his back, then pointed at her backpack. “So what brings you here then? Farm stand isn’t open until tomorrow.” 

“Just here for, um, inspiration?” She hadn’t even made it past the front gate and she had practically been caught already. “Would it be okay if I looked around? I promise not to touch anything.” It was only half a lie. She wouldn’t touch anything except herself, of course.

“Whatever works for you lady. I’m off to feed the chickens. I can show you what’s what on the way, if you’d like” Almost effortlessly he hefted one bag, then the other, over a shoulder and held both in place with a single arm. 

“I’d love that.” Nicole snugged up against the man and wrapped herself around his free arm. 

“Need help carrying anything?” She offered. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“Naw,” he huffed a laugh. “Wouldn’t want your chiropractor or chakra healer or whatever you all have nowadays to sue me for breaking your back.”

“I’m a farm girl at heart. Promise.”

He gave a hearty laugh at that. 

“It’s been real dull around here. I needed that laugh. You look like you’re the sort that would wear some old daisy dukes, some cowboy boots, plop on a Stetson, and call yourself country.’

“What?” Nicole pulled nervously on the strap of her pack. “Country girls are hot!”

“S’pose so.”

“They are!”

“Girls out here shovel bullshit all day and are full of it too. Guess if that’s your thing I won’t judge. But you? You look too pretty and clean.” He paused. “I don’t mean any disrespect by that. Just, you look like a perfect little angel.”

“With a crooked halo.” Nicole winked.


“Nothing.” Nicole beamed. “What’s that?”

She pointed to a large metal garage. 

“Workshop. Dal is probably in there. Lou hired her a few weeks ago. She used to work at some big tech place before she ditched it. Genius with machines though. Oh, Jesse and Corbin are around here somewhere. They just stated dating and they’re young so I apologize on their behalf if you end up catching them with their pants down somewhere. I mean that literally.”

“What happens if they get caught?” 

“I usually just look the other way. Not my business.” He pointed towards the house. “Drew and Abby aren’t home right now. Abby’s okay. Drew though? He can be an asshole. If he mouths off just mouth off back, that usually puts him in his place.”

“Sounds like a jerk. What about you?” Nicole hopped out in front of him.

“I’m a jerk too.” He gave a sarcastic smile. 

“No!” Nicole slapped his arm. “What do you do here?” 

“I run the farm stand. Other than that I just move things.” He huffed as he hefted the feed bags against the fence of a chicken run. “It’s actually pretty dull most of the time. To be honest? It’s nice to see an angel stop by.”

The farmhand bent down to cut open the bag of feed. As he did, Nicole moved to slip away. 

The workshop was behind them now and she dove between a large complicated looking farm machine and a giant pile of firewood. Peeking out, she could see the farmhand again, looking around confused. With a disappointed, almost sad shrug, he carried on with his daily chores.

“Sorry cutie.” Nicole smiled softly. 

One last look around told her she was in the clear. She ducked back into her hiding spot. From her pack she pulled a pair of daisy-duke shorts.

“I don’t care what you say mister farmer.” She held up the shorts. “Cowgirls are hot.”

Undoing the buttons on her shirt, she pulled it off slowly and tossed it to the ground. A plain sports bra was underneath. Instinctively she covered up her breasts with her hands as the bra fell off.

Another peek around the corner. The farmhand was long gone now. She could hear voices inside the workshop. What would they do if they found her, she wondered? A cute city girl like her with no top on? 

It didn’t matter. 

To late to go back now. 

She undid the her thin belt and slid her pants off the bubble of her ass, down her toned legs, and kicked them off on to her discarded top.

Vulnerable and nearly naked; the intoxicating rush of the taboo act started to build within her. Across from the workshop was a small garden plot. At the center was a shoddily made scarecrow. It stared mindlessly off into the rolling fields. 

Nicole dared herself. She could, in just a flash, rush to the scarecrow and back again. It would be just like streaking in college. It had been so long since she felt the rush of summer air on her nude body and the delighted gasps of people who got to see such a careless and wild display. 

Still, her feet didn’t move. Her fear cautioned her. What if she got caught? She had planned out this trip for weeks. If she got caught now her adventure would end with nothing more than an embarrassing car ride home. 

Her face turned as red as the barn’s walls when she slipped off her underwear and stood, fully nude now, outside the workshop. Ahead of her was the shabby old scarecrow. 

One. Two. Three. Go!

She bolted. Her hair whipped wildly. Her bare feet imprinted on the loamy garden ground. The warm summer sun baked down on her bare skin. With a hop, she high-fived the scarecrow. The weather rotted wood holding it up gave and it tumbled to the ground with a hefty flump. When the dust settled Nicole was already safely squatting back behind the wood pile, huffing and giddy.

She muffled an excited squeal. That was so wild!

“What was that?” A muffled woman’s voice came from the workshop.

Above Nicole an old window clanged open. In a panic she ducked, covered as much of her bare body as her arms could, and looked up with wide eyed certainty that her adventure was over. Her indiscretion was too much. She was caught for sure. 

“Hey Dal.” A pretty, round-faced young beanpole of a woman leaned out, looking ahead towards the garden. “Looks like that old scarecrow finally died. How about me and Corbin go fix it?”

“Absolutely not! I’m not done talking to you.” Nicole assumed that hollering person was Dal. “The shed was one thing. I get it. I really do. You’re young and horny but where in the world did you even find this?”

“I’m telling you, it’s not ours!” The conversation muffled again as Jesse rolled her eyes and pulled the window closed.

Nicole let out the breath that she’d been holding in. That was too close. The rush of it filled her stomach with butterflies and her mind with scandalous fantasy. Between her legs, she felt herself growing wetter. Daring to pet a finger against herself, she whipped a hand to her mouth to stifle the moan that lept from her throat. 

This was why she was here.

It took some effort to stop her fingers from begging out more pleasure. The fun was just beginning. Keeping herself good and edged would make the payoff all the more earth-shattering. Plus, she wasn’t properly dressed yet. 

The daisy duke shorts lay ahead of her. She slid them on, pulling them up and letting the worn fabric push again her crotch. No need for underwear. The easier the access, the better.

In her bag was the rest of her outfit; a pair of cowboy boots, a cute bikini top, and a tight fitting button-up flannel shirt that was just a little too small. She could wrap that around her in a cute sort of way that would highlight her midriff and toned abs. 

She dressed with a giddy confidence. Tying her hair up in pigtails, Nicole felt like the very epitome of a sexy cowgirl.

“Mister farmer was right.” Nicole traced the curves of her chest with a finger. “I totally forgot a cowboy hat.”

With her proper clothes tucked back into her pack, she peeked around one last time. Still no one to be seen. She was giddy. Her plan was going so well! Surely, she smiled, she could go a little farther?

Why stop now?

Opening in a pouch on the side of her pack she pulled out a sleek round object with a pink little heart at the end; a butt plug. Walking around with it massaging and teasing her soft insides sounded dreamy and so wonderfully slutty.

She bent over at the hips and spread her legs. She undid the buttons on her shorts and pulled them down from her hips and around her thighs. With her bare behind exposed for the world to see, she slid the little toy between the warm lips of her pussy, coating it in the wet slickness that was building there. She pressed it against the tight skin, gently wiggling it back and forth until it slid into her with a tiny satisfying pop. 

Nearly panting, she stood straight again. Nicole bit back a moan but her knees buckled. The cool little thing pressed against the warm insides of her hole. When she pulled the shorts back up, the toy’s pressure intensified and the wetness between her lips started to dampen the tattered strip of demin between her legs. 

Every little movement tickled and teased her. It took every bit of her determination not to grind and caress herself into an orgasm. No, not yet, she promised herself. The more she edged, the more she pushed herself, the more mind blowing the release would be once she let it wash over her. She had to keep it together as long as she could.

Nicole peeked up to the bottom of the window. The young couple was gone now. Only an woman about Nicole’s age was left, grimacing at the contents of a bag. She wore the outfit of an equestrian. Large boots and tight, formal looking riding clothes. Tucked under an arm was a helmet and riding crop.

“You called Dal?” a middle-aged tank of a man lumbered into the workshop. He was scruffy and haggard and must have been twice the size of the blonde farmhand that had greeted Nicole. 

“What’s this look like to you Lou?” She opened up the bag to let him peek in.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“It’s not a normal one. At least I don’t think.” Dal looked away, pursing her lips. “Not that I would know. It’s dirty stuff, everything about it. I’d never. It’s just always on the news. You can’t help but hear about it.”

“If it’s stolen, there will be hell to pay. Jesse and Corbin went too far this time.” Dal nodded agreement and tucked the bag under a sawhorse. The duo slipped out, exchanging promises of punishment for the young couple’s indiscretions. 

With tug the window was open and Nicole was up on the frame. The toy tucked up her insides pressed firmly within her flexing muscles. She let out a slinky moan that bounced into a grunt as she cleared the window and plopped indelicately against the workshop floor. 

She wasted no time rushing towards the bag but only made half way before she started to figure out what Corbin and Jesse might have been up to. In the middle of the workshop was a sawhorse at its base were a full set bindings; the kinky sort that were made to hold a person in place. 

Nicole snagged the illicit bag from its hiding place and took a seat straddling the sawhorse. There were cuffs at the end of the crossbeam. The ones for feet were below. There was a lead for a collar, she supposed, but didn’t spot a collar for it. Regardless, anyone strapped into this would be nothing more that a bound up toy for whoever found them. 

Without pause, she reached down and bound her ankles into the lower set of cuffs. Her edged and horny body couldn’t stop itself. 

To hell with getting caught, she needed this. This was where she wanted to let herself orgasm. She reached down and strapped her ankles into the lower set of cuffs. They fit snuggly and held her hips tight to the crossbeam of the saw horse.

There was one last thing in her own pack that would drive her over the edge. She reached in and pulled out a silky looking toy. It started to vibrate softly when she turned it on. Flicking it off again, she pulled the thin strip of fabric covering her crotch to the side. The plug in her ass peeked out now. Slickly and effortlessly, she pushed the second toy up into her pussy. Biting down on her thumb, she turned it on and it’s tiny pulsing pleasure rippled through her insides.

Her eyes rolled back, her arms grabbed the sawhorse as if it were her last line to sanity. She barely heard the noise outside the workshop’s door. She couldn’t care any more. Every part of her was getting washed away in the pleasure rippling through her insides.

Just a little longer, she wished. The voices at the door were laughing. It was the couple. They were promising to return soon to use it; the thing they’d stashed away.

In the sweat-soaked pleasure of the moment, Nicole had forgotten the curious little sack. She was still bound by her legs. With a stretch, and not shortage of focus, she was able to snag it once again.

What she found shocked her. 

“A blanking collar?”

She’d never seen one in person before. It was a hard plastic thing with a sturdy clasp on it and was instantly recognizable. On it’s side was a small digital display. It was just like the ones made famous at Free State University. 

Or was it?

The University’s version was blue. This one was a sleek matte grey and was a little smaller than she remembered. Was it a new model? What made it different?

She’d never been blanked before. As far as she knew, only students and faculty at FSU were allowed to try it out. The big company that made the drug was super secretive about it all. Still, she’d heard the stories about students being passed around like brainless sex dolls. The idea seemed like sci-fi, a fantasy-like dream.

Yet, here was one of those magic collars. 

Between focused breaths Nicole attached it to the sawhorse’s lead, unclasped it, and put it around her neck. It locked around her easily enough, resting snugly against her skin. 

Nothing happened. 

She had seen blanked people before and they always had a collar. Was there something else missing? She begged her body to hold together as she tried to figure out how to use it, but her orgasm deep within her was building. It pulled closer and closer as she fought against it. The plug, the vibration, the collar; all combined to tease her holes and her mind. If she could hold off, just a little longer, the orgasm that awaited her at the end would be like nothing she felt before. The fantasy would be fulfilled.

Hold it back. She begged her body. 

Her eyes rolled back in her head.

Her breath sucked shorter and shorter

Just. A. Little. More.



“Oh, Jesus Herbert Walker Christ what hell?” Dal hollered, dropping her helmet and crop.

Nicole nearly choked herself with the tied-down collar as she tried to turn to look. 

“I thought Jesse was bad. Fuck.” Dal hurried out of the workshop. ”Corbin! Jesse! Damn you. Where in Sam Hill are you?”

The cold crashing wave of shame rocked against Nicole. The last threads that held her body together snapped. The ice-cold embarrassment combined with the pressure boiling up within her. There was no turning back now, the orgasm would come no matter how hard she fought it. It was only a matter of time as it build to a catastrophic fever-pitch. Her body rocked in time with the vibrating toy inside her. Her ass, filled with the slick plug wiggled and writhed. She clutched the collar, choking back her howling gasps with it. 

Then, someone else grabbed the collar.

“Knock that off.” The blonde farmhand looked down, doing his best to look anywhere but into Nicole’s eyes or her more curvy, flushed parts. 

Nicole was almost speechless.


“Use me.” She begged.

The farmhand’s face flushed nearly as much as the woman bound in front of him. 

“Please.” She begged. “My body. Blank me. Fuck me. Blank my mind. Make me a toy. Please, sir. Please just let me cum.”

“You definitely made today interesting. I can’t say no to a pretty lady. But.” He squatted and took her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes. “If I do, can I have you?”

“Yes.” Nicole quivered and gasped. “You. Dal. Everyone. Anyone. All of me. Blank me. Wash my mind away. Please sir. I just want to be your little cowgirl fucktoy.”

“Deal.” The farmhand smiled. “As long as you let me take you out after it’s all done?” 

“Anything for you.”

Nicoles’ mind was washed away in the endorphins and hormones rocking her bound up body. Then, when the farmhand took her collar in his hands, something stronger took over. Second-by-second everything she was fluttered away until all that was left was a mindless body, a warm toy ready to be used for pleasure.

The farmhand held the collar tight until the Nicole’s eyes glittered with that dreamy look that the collar’s miracle drug caused. He’d made sure that the prototype collar had injected her with a full dose and the little display around the woman’s neck blipped to life. For the next 48-hours she would be nothing but a mindless fuckdoll.

“Since the rest of your dumb holes are filled, I guess I’ll use your mouth.” He undid his pants and pushed his dick against her lips. They wantonly wrapped around him. Using Nicole’s pigtails as a sort of handlebars, he helped himself to her throat. Her eyes, eager and mindless, looked up as he fucked her face into a soaked, sloppy mess.

With a grunt, he pulled out. Her tongue lapped at him, the steams of her spit tracing desperate little lines as he convulsed. Thick ropes of his seed splashed across her face. Nicole’s body shivered and shook in response. The first of countless waves of orgasms started to crash through her. From her pussy, her juices squirted out, soaking the wood binding her.

“Well, you are just a little angel, aren’t you?” The farmhand plopped his own hat atop Nicole’s empty head. “Look at that. Now you’re a real cowgirl. You can help me out at the farm stand this weekend.” 

The farmhand patted Nicole’s head. Pulling his pants back up, he squatted. He took Nicoles free hands and bound them. Then, he called out to Dal, saying he’d taken care of the situation. 

A new prototype collar that doesn’t require the Center’s infamous BLNK shot? How did that get on a rural farm so far away from the University? Of course, Nicole doesn’t care. She’ll be busy being a blank-brained body all weekend. What would you do with your own blanked cowgirl for the weekend? Or, maybe, you could be the blanked one. Then who knows what would happen.

“A Cowgirl for the Weekend” is a custom story commissioned by a patron who wishes to stay anonymous. They gave the okay to have this posted on here on to be shared with all of you. Thank them by enjoying it and sharing it around. After all, the more people that enjoy Nicole, the better!

Have your own OC that you want turned into a mindless sexy toy for the pleasure of countless others? Grab a writing or illustration commission.

– PotluckSoup

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